Chapter 20 #2
Riven’s voice breaks the silence from behind me, and I try not to flinch at his sudden proximity. “If the pattern holds,” he says with deathly quiet, “then there will be more.”
Xavier mutters a string of curses under his breath as he stalks away to speak to the warden Riven had previously been conversing with, whilst I stand to face him, my jaw tightening. “I guess you would know?”
He watches me closely. For the briefest second, I swear I see concern flicker behind his composure, but it’s gone before I can be sure.
“I swore a blood oath–”
“I know,” I snap. “But I also know you pretend to be concerned whilst you clearly seem to think this is all just a big game. Well you may be used to being the smartest person in the room, but I’m here now, Governor, and I don’t back down easily.”
I expect him to shout back at me and try and put me in my place like most men would, but to my surprise, a sly smile spreads across his face instead.
“I was hoping you would say that.”
Before I can even think of what to say, he turns his back on me abruptly and strides off down the street.
“Hey—I—what does that even mean? Riven!” I shout after him, but he doesn’t turn back. He just sticks his hand in the air and waves it at me as he remains facing forward, carving his way through the crowd.
Despite my contempt for him, I can’t stop my traitorous smile at the ridiculousness of the gesture, so at odds with his usual dark decorum.
Infuriating man.
“You like him.”
I spin round, fixing an innocent look on my face like I wasn’t just watching the back of his head, but Stryx gives me a pointed stare and I huff out a sigh. “I don’t like him. He’s an awful person.”
“Tell that to your face,” she smirks, and I roll my eyes. Her smile fades quickly though as she studies me. “You can tell me anything, you know that right? I would never judge you.”
I bite my lip, guilt sliding over me, thick and unwelcome. “I should hate him,” I whisper. “And I do, really. But–”
I blow out a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts while Stryx waits patiently.
“It’s just, my whole life I’ve always relied on facts to bring me the answers, I’ve never allowed assumptions or something as trivial as a gut feeling to cloud my judgement.
But with Riven…I don’t know. The facts tell me he’s a psychotic killer.
I mean, we literally caught him in the act.
And then there’s Xavier’s curse, and his poor sister… ”
“But?” she encourages.
“I can’t explain it. All the evidence points to the contrary, but I can’t shake this feeling that something's not right. That we’re missing something important. He’s connected to all this, of that I’m sure, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s not in the way we originally thought.”
Stryx looks to the ground, her eyebrows furrowed in thought, while I stand here wondering if I really am starting to lose my mind. But before I can say as much, Stryx gets there first.
“I believe you.”
“I—what?”
“I believe you,” she repeats. “I think you’re right. If he really was guilty, and knows we are investigating, then why would he save your life? Something doesn’t add up.”
My shoulders slump in relief. Maybe I’m not completely mad then, though my constant oscillating thoughts on the man are certainly starting to make me feel like I am.
“But you’re right,” she continues. “We do need facts to back this up, and right now we don’t have much. Though I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to Mindweave out in the open, there are too many witnesses.”
I nod my agreement. “I’ve not been feeling right these last few days anyway, I think I need to lay off the magic for a while. Usually it makes me feel empty and numb, but my emotions are starting to feel overwhelming, like they’re out of control. I don’t know what’s going on.”
Stryx steps forward and takes my hand again, giving me a small smile. “It hasn’t escaped my attention.”
“What do you–”
“Detective Wren?”
We jump apart and turn towards the alley where the hushed voice came from. One of the wardens stands in the shadows with his hood up, looking visibly nervous, his eyes darting around as he ushers us over.
“Raph, right?” I ask as I join him in the alley, remembering him as one of the wardens who stood watch at the previous murder. He joined the Division around the same time as me, his distinctive red hair and curled moustache make him difficult to forget.
He nods quickly, beckoning for us to get closer, but I stand my ground as my suspicion blooms.
“What do you want from us?” Stryx asks, her eyes narrowing. He looks between us frantically, sweat beading on his brow despite the chill in the morning air.
He shoots a wary look over his shoulder. “Keep your voice down. If the wrong people see me talking to you–” He tugs his hood lower. “I’ve seen that tattoo before. The one on the victim’s wrist.”
My pulse quickens. “You’re certain?”
He nods once, his expression pale beneath his hood.
“It’s a sigil, I think it belongs to a cult.
” He hesitates, voice trembling. “My friend got that same tattoo recently. He wouldn’t say from where, but he did say it was...
liberation, of some kind. I questioned him about it, but he stopped speaking to me after that. ”
“What makes you think it’s a cult?” I demand, the idea seeming unlikely, though it would go some way to explain why I’ve been refused answers so far.
His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “He never said outright, but he mentioned something about The Fracturing? I don’t know, but he used to be convinced one of the old Gods was waiting beyond the Veil or something, that one day someone would tear it open.
Then he got that tattoo, ranting about ‘our time finally coming’. Next thing I know, he’s gone.”
Doubt claws at the edge of my mind, but behind me Stryx shifts uneasily.
“Some believe the Veil’s the only thing that keeps mortal magic limited,” she says quietly. “Without it, they could rival the Echofae, even surpass them.”
“Yes, but doesn’t that legend also state that it would require releasing the Faceless God and the untold horrors that come with him?” I scoff. “Myth or real, either way it seems like a pretty terrible idea to me.”
“Destroying the Veil would unravel everything,” she murmurs. “It’s madness. If it’s true, that is.”
Raph gives a strained laugh. “Aye. But that’s why I reckon it’s a cult, see.
Power without limit. Freedom without restraint.
I’ve heard talk, whispers that it could unite Velmora under one banner.
” His voice lowers. “But most who believe just want supremacy. To rule over everyone else. Echofae, mortal, doesn’t matter. ”
I frown, my thoughts spiralling. “And your friend?” I ask softly. “Where is he now? How can I find him?”
Raph looks away. “I told you, he’s gone. Vanished a few days back. Just before the first murder happened.”
The fog shifts around us, and I catch the faint sound of bells echoing from somewhere deep within Aethermere’s maze of alleys. Stryx shifts from one foot to the other anxiously.
“If this cult is real, the victims could be part of it,” I murmur. “Could these killings be some sort of ritual?”
My gaze lingers on the body out in the street, but my train of thought is abruptly cut off as a tall shadow falls over me and Xavier appears, looking murderous. “We need to leave, now.”
I turn back to Raph but find the alley empty behind us, the man nowhere in sight.
“What’s happened?” Stryx asks anxiously, stepping closer to me as she observes him with a deep frown.
His gaze drops to mine, fury and pain swimming in his eyes so vividly my breath catches.
“It’s Vesper.”